Anger Issues
by FirewithFire
Summary: An alternative spin on Blame it On The Alcohol, Quinn picks a fight with Santana. May or may not be continued.


**So here's an alternative spin on "Blame it On The Alcohol", takes place at Rachel's party. **

**A quick recap: Quinn dated Sam, cheated on him with Finn, Santana got Finn mono as well as Quinn, proving to Sam that his girlfriend's been sneaking around behind his back just when Quinn decides she wants to be with Sam instead of Finn, but too little too late, Sam broke up with Quinn and decided to take Santana up on her offer and started dating her instead, though Santana actually has feelings for Brittany who is dating Artie.**

* * *

Quinn watched Santana throw herself at Sam. She was all over him and Quinn couldn't help but glare at the new couple in silence. She could say it didn't bother her, but who was she kidding? She hated Santana for stealing her boyfriend, but most of all, she loathed herself for screwing up for the umpteenth time. Something was wrong with her, she knew it.

She was supposed to be the popular girl, _she_ was the one who was supposed to have it all. And yet, she found herself with nothing… nothing but this empty feeling in her gut, and the anger that overcame her every time she watched one of the happy couples make out. How come everyone else could seem to find love and not her? Maybe it was the alcohol running through her veins, but something inside her just snapped. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

She caught Santana staring at Brittany and Artie, who were – of course – also making out, and apparently Santana decided to give Sam a breather. Quinn couldn't quite make out what she said, but next thing she knew Santana was pacing towards the door.

This was it.

_This_ was her chance to even things out. If Quinn was going down, she was going to make damn sure she wasn't going down alone. She got up from her chair and followed Santana, allowing the feeling of anger and resentment to control her footsteps. When she got outside she found Santana on the porch, leaning against the wall with her eyes glued to the floor. Quinn wasted no time to confront her.

"Why'd you do it?" Quinn asked, so loudly she knew it would bother the drunken Santana.

"Quinn." Santana said sternly as she looked up, locking eyes with Quinn. "What are you doing here."

"I know you don't really like Sam." With that the blonde took another step closer. "So why'd you do it, out of spite?"

Santana scoffed, shaking her head. "You're just mad because you blew it. You cheated on him with Finn, so don't pretend this was my fault."

Quinn could feel herself getting angrier, and even though a small part of her knew Santana was right, she couldn't stop. Not now, because she was on a rampage. "You still haven't answered my question. Not that it matters… we all know you're into Brittany and that you're just using Sam to hide the fact that you like girls."

That certainly got Santana's attention.

"Excuse me?"

"I can see the way you look at Brittany," Quinn laughed spitefully. "_Everyone _can see it. You know, you act like such a bitch all the time, but really… you're just too scared to admit the truth."

Santana looked away, still shaking her head in disbelief. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Did I hit a nerve there?" Quinn teased with a rather vicious tone in her voice. It wasn't usually like her to act this way, but it felt as if she had no control over it.

"The only thing that's getting hit is your face if you don't shut your mouth," Santana spat back with a deadpanned expression.

"Can't take the truth?" Quinn continued to pester, digging that hole deeper and deeper.

"I'm just giving you a _friendly_ warning," Santana replied deceitfully calm. Really, there was nothing friendly in her eyes. "Speaking of the _truth_… don't act like you're little miss perfect. You're in the damn celibacy club and yet you keep hooking up with all these guys, I mean _god_, just pick one already. Just because you don't have sex with them doesn't mean you're not a slut."

"Funny, you're calling me a slut when you're the one who's slept with every guy in the school just to prove that you're not a lesbian. It's pathetic, really…"

HBIC Quinn was all out by now.

"Who do you think you're fooling?" she continued, failing to notice Santana clenching her fists, making the blood drain from her knuckles. "The only one you're trying to convince is yourself and you know it. So would you just stop messing with other people's lives and –"

Before Quinn got the chance to finish Santana's palm collided with her cheek, nearly tipping her off balance. The impact however sent Quinn into a slight dizzy spell, and it took a few moments for her feet to find back their grip on the floor.

"I warned you…" Santana said, catching her breath from the sudden adrenaline rushing through her. They say violence is not the answer, but it sure felt good.

As soon as Quinn crawled out of her daze, the realization caught up with her. Returning the favor, she launched herself forward. Before Santana could register what was happening she was forcefully pushed back and she was sent on a straight trip to the ground. It was a rather painful landing, but even now, Santana managed to wonder where Quinn had gotten the strength.

"You're a real bitch Santana."

"Not too bad yourself, _Quinn,_" Santana retorted, leaving the emphasis on the blonde's name, and with that Santana pushed herself back up to land another hit. Though she barely took the time to see Quinn was already making the next move. The blonde's hand struck with a sickening slap, leaving a stinging red mark on Santana's face.

Santana couldn't believe it. But one thing was for sure, she wasn't going to let Quinn get away with this. "Game on Q."

Next thing they knew they were both on the ground, fighting as if they both had saved up every inch of anger and frustration all their lives. The claws were out, hair was being pulled, punches were being thrown… Alcohol may have had something to do with it, but they were both sober enough to know that there was more at the core of this. They just couldn't bring themselves to ask _that_ question. So instead, they went with whatever felt natural. It's not like they haven't fought before after all. Though this time, there was nobody around to stop them.

It was a rather even fight, until Quinn managed to top Santana.

"This is all your fault!" Quinn yelled, finding herself unable to stop hitting Santana, who seemed to not even bother to get up anymore. Though after Quinn landed a particular hard punch, she finally pushed Quinn off of her.

Quinn got up and quickly stepped back, panting as she tried to compose herself. Generally she didn't like to get her hands dirty, but she had to admit that getting out her frustrations this way sure felt like a relief.

As soon as she managed to calm down a bit, she became aware of how her body ached. She couldn't deny that Santana had gotten her pretty good. Her cheek felt as if it was on fire and she could see scratches covering multiple parts of her body. Not to mention the bruises that would pop up in the morning. And then, she took a look at the sight before her, finally getting a good glimpse of the damage she's done. Her face slightly fell at the realization that the Latina's face was starting to look like a kid's coloring pad, several bruises were already forming.

Quinn did feel bad, or at least, about the last few punches she threw. She was surprised however when she heard a laugh escape Santana's mouth.

She couldn't help but frown. "You must have fallen on your head or something, because I think you lost your mind."

Santana simply shook her head, still wearing a seemingly misplaced smile. "I thought I was the one with anger issues."

"I don't have anger issues."

It seemed like the pain was finally registering, Quinn caught Santana flinching when she tried to touch her cheek. "Yeah well my face says otherwise."

For a moment it was silent. Quinn didn't really know what to say. She simply stood there, watching Santana wince as she got up.

"I'm sorry," she finally spoke.

"Why? You wanted to start a fight and you got it."

"I didn't…" Quinn started, though once again finding herself at a loss of words.

"Yeah, you did," Santana clarified for her. "But I'm not gonna lie, I'd still rather fight with you than get back in there," she admitted as she looked back at the house.

Quinn nodded, knowing what she meant. "You know you should just tell her how you feel."

"Not gonna happen Q," Santana quickly answered.

Quinn sighed, resting her back against the wall before allowing herself to slump down to the floor.

Santana mimicked her sigh as she noticed Quinn's defeated behavior. "So are you gonna talk to me about what's really bothering you?"

"Are _you_?" Quinn replied, looking up to face Santana with a raised eyebrow.

Santana rolled her eyes before dropping her back against the wall next to Quinn, not bothering to say anything as they both knew the answer to that question.

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**So yeah, I started out doing homework but I ended up writing this.. Thoughts?**


End file.
